Chapter 32
Maverick was not a fan of thunder.
He wasn’t afraid of it in a way that made him cower or hide. Instead, he barked and growled at every rumble, as if he wanted to fight it. He’d been barking nonstop for the last thirty minutes, since Haley left. It was almost like he thought the thunder was to blame for her absence.
“Mav, buddy, give it a rest,” I said as I looked at him. He was standing on the couch, ears perked, staring intently at the door behind me.
Another rumble of thunder.
Another bark.
I reached over and scratched behind his ear, then patted my thigh. “Come on, lie down.” He listened, begrudgingly, letting out another low growl as he sank onto my lap.
As I sat there listening to the storm outside, my mind couldn’t stay off of Haley.
I felt awful about what I’d said to her on Saturday.
I’d been tangled in the rush of realizing I was in love with her, and I’d been desperately trying to figure out how to navigate it.
Then that patient came in. We were opposites in so many ways, but all I could focus on were those tiny, glaring similarities we did have. And it fucked with me.
Not being able to get that man to accept help gnawed at me. That failure bled into how I treated Haley, fueling an ache I dumped on her. That wasn’t a justification for how I lashed out at her or what I’d said. None at all.
I’d done what she said—taken a few days to battle my thoughts and piece together my next move. I told her we needed to talk...because we did. And I was on edge and nervous.
I was anxious for her to come back…because I planned to tell her how I felt.
That I was all in.
That I wanted to be with her.
That I loved her.
Was I still terrified? Absolutely. For several reasons. But in the past few days, while clearing my head, I kept circling back to one thing. Every thought—good or bad—led to the same conclusion. My heart needed Haley.
That ultimately outweighed any lingering reservations and fears I had.
My thoughts were broken by the chime of my phone ringing on the coffee table. I saw the number for the ER flashing across the screen, and I grabbed it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Marie. Did Haley leave yet?”
A cold wave of dread instantly slammed into my chest.
“She—She left thirty minutes ago.” The air thinned. She should be there by now.
“She’s not here yet,” Marie said, and I could hear the tinge of worry in her voice.
Panic gripped me. “Have you tried calling–”
“She’s not answering her phone.”
Fuck.
I barely remembered moving, adrenaline and dread propelling me toward the door. “I’m going out to look for her. Don’t stop calling, and let me know the second you hear anything.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I hung up, slipped my shoes on, grabbed my coat, and picked up my keys.
I was out the door a second later.
My grip on the steering wheel was tight as I drove away from my house. I navigated the rain-slick roads, fighting against the gusting wind with my wipers going at full speed to combat the heavy rain.
Regret knotted inside me with every mile. I never should have let her leave. I should have insisted on driving her, even though I knew she would have argued against it. I would have won in the end, even if she was pissed about it.
A heavy gust of wind shifted my Jeep to the right as I turned onto the main road toward town. I straightened my wheel and regained control. I was hoping she just pulled over somewhere, waiting for the rain to let up a little.
My eyes darted back and forth, searching for any sign of her car.
There was nothing.
“Come on!” I grumbled, my grip tightening on the wheel even more.
As I neared Gilded Hill Bridge, I slowed, and that’s when I noticed the corner of the concrete rail at the start of the bridge was clipped and broken.
As I got closer, I saw blurry red taillights illuminated against white paint peeking over the edge of the small hill.
“Shit! Fuck!”
I slammed on my brakes, my tires screeching as my Jeep skidded to a stop, and I blindly reached for the button in my car that dialed emergency services.
I didn’t even let them finish the 911 greeting.
“This is Dr. Blake Pierson! I’m at the east end of Gilded Hill Bridge with an MVA, one vehicle flipped at the bottom of the embankment, injuries unknown! I need an ambulance now!”
I didn’t hang up. I didn’t listen to what they said next either. I flung my door open and jumped out. Wind and rain pelted my face as I ran around the front of my car and onto the grassy edge, starting down the small hill.
“No. No, no, no, no!”
My heart thundered against my ribs as I stumbled. The mud from all the heavy rain made my feet slip beneath me, and I slammed into the roof of her car, catching myself with my hands. Her Jeep was flipped onto its side, driver’s side down.
“Haley!” I shouted as I ran to the front. Through the cracked windshield, I saw her blurry figure. “Haley!”
I hoisted myself onto her car, holding the roof for support as I climbed my way over to the shattered passenger window.
Peering inside, my heart lodged in my throat. “Jesus, baby, talk to me!”
Haley didn’t speak. I noticed her rapid, wheezing breaths, then her eyes met mine—pained, tired, and panicked.
Suddenly, everything froze.
Every raindrop suspended, every sound flattened, and the storm outside fell away.
My mind glitched, the images shifting.
I was no longer in the heavy rain but kneeling in dry dirt.
And I wasn’t looking at Haley but at Noah.
I saw the panic in his eyes as he stared back at me, hearing him gasp for air. I could feel the grip of his trembling fist against the front of my uniform.
My chest seized, a vise of dread crushing my ribs. I couldn’t breathe, fear locking every muscle, choking the air from my lungs.
A gust of wind and a rumble of thunder shook me from my daze. Suddenly, there was Haley again, staring up at me from where her seatbelt trapped her.
Not again.
I clenched my fist so tight my nails scored my palm, determination scraping against the panic that threatened to swallow me whole.
I couldn’t do this again.
I couldn’t lose someone else.
I couldn’t lose her.
I exhaled, then crawled across the side of her car, turned, and slipped through the other broken window, dropping into the back seat.
“Baby girl,” I said, shifting as close to her as I could.
I moved to straddle the driver’s seat without jostling her.
My back partly shielded her from the rain coming in through the broken window above as I looked down at her.
Her clothes were soaked through beneath her thin coat, her skin and hair wet.
She looked faint and had a small gash along her brow line.
“Can you talk to me? Can you tell me where it hurts?”
Her breaths were still rapid, the wheezing and rattling worsening as she gasped for air. She parted her lips, but no sound came out before she weakly lifted her hand, gesturing to her chest.
“Your chest,” I spit out with a nod. “Your chest hurts.”
My head snapped around the interior of the car, and I spotted her stethoscope on the floor of the passenger side, partly lodged under the seat. I quickly reached for it, yanking it free and putting it on, slipping it beneath her scrub top and pressing the diaphragm to her chest.
There was no air movement on her right side.
Fuck.
Haley had a collapsed lung, which was the cause of the wheezing and rattling, and her gasping for breath. Her chest cavity was filling with air.
“Shit! Shit!”
My head whipped around, mind racing. Anything—think of anything. My eyes landed on her glove compartment.
I reached behind me and yanked the glove compartment open. All of the supplies Haley had shoved in there over time spilled out. Rain sluiced my face and clothes from the broken window above as I sifted through gloves, gauze, tape, alcohol wipes, flushes, syringes, and...blunt filter needles.
I slipped on a pair of gloves much too small for me, stretching them around my hands. Then I dug through the supplies until I found a fourteen-gauge needle. I took the wrapper between my teeth and grabbed a couple of alcohol wipes.
“Hold on for me, Haley. Hold on.”
Stretching my arm, I reached into the back where her bag was.
I tugged it closer, unzipped it, and reached in until I found her scissors.
With the alcohol wipes in my fist, I gripped the collar of her scrub top and cut down the front of it, enough to give me open access to her chest in the limited space I had, and at the worst fucking angle possible.
Haley’s breaths were frantic and shallow, panic thickening the air as each inhale grew harder.
I was quickly forced to realize that I couldn’t live in a world where she didn’t exist. I needed to save her. Not just for her or for everyone who loved her, but, selfishly, for myself.
“I know, baby,” my voice cracked. “I know. Just hang on for me, okay?”
I ripped open the alcohol wipes, sliding two fingers from her clavicle down to the second rib before cleaning the space beneath it as best as I could. Then, I tore open the package containing the needle.
I blew out a shuddered breath, my eyes darting from hers to where my finger marked the spot I needed.
And then I pushed the needle into her chest.
As I leaned down, I turned my head to listen. I was barely able to make out the hissing of the air rushing from the needle over the wind and the rain, but it was there.
And I saw Haley’s breathing slowly begin to improve.
I took the stethoscope, listening again just to be sure. “Okay, okay,” I whispered to myself. I didn’t even realize until that moment how hard my heart was pounding as I removed the inner needle, keeping the catheter in her chest and securing it as best as I could with tape.
I wanted to reach for her, to cut her loose from the seatbelt, to get her the fuck out of that car and carry her up to mine, but I knew I couldn’t move her. I had to wait for the medics, no matter how hard it was.
I saw her eyes closing, and I leaned forward, gently running my hand over the top of her wet hair as my other hand gripped her wrist and pressed two fingers against her pulse point. “Haley, hey—hey, stay with me. The ambulance is on the way.”
At first, I thought the drops clinging to my face belonged to the rain, but then I tasted salt against my lips and realized it was tears sliding down my cheeks.
“You gotta stay with me, okay? Stay with me, dammit,” my voice broke as I carefully pressed my lips to her temple.
“You want those lazy Sunday mornings and dancing in the kitchen? And more random drives and impulsive trips, right? And I want—God, I want to be the person who gives all of that to you, baby girl. But I need you here to do that. So you gotta hang on for me, okay? Please.” My breath hitched, my teeth clenching hard as I tried to keep myself together.
“I-I can’t—I can’t lose you, Haley. I can’t do this life or the next without you. Please…please just hang on.”
I wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since I’d made the initial call, but I could hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance, growing closer and closer.
“Hear that? They’re coming, baby. They’re almost here. Just hang on.”
The sirens grew louder, and not just one, not two, but three—police, fire, and medics. I heard them stop at the bridge, and I moved, reaching up to pull myself through the window. “Down here!”
Trey, one of the officers I recognized from frequently bringing people through the ER, was the first one down the hill. He shielded his eyes from the rain. “Dr. Pierson?”
“It’s Haley!”
I saw the recognition flash in his eyes just as the medics and a few of the firefighters arrived at her car.
I looked at one of the medics as I dropped down into the muddy grass, shouting over the wind and rain.
“She’s got a pneumothorax! I decompressed with a fourteen-gauge needle with return of normal breath sounds, but she’s slipping! ”
The next thing I knew, Trey was pulling me away from her Jeep as the medics and firefighters got to work.
And all I could do was stand there and watch helplessly…hoping what I’d done was enough to get her through.